Distant Shores
by S-Michael
Summary: AU When Gohan killed Frieza, he inherited an empire he did not want--and it's problems. But even across the universe, he and Bulma can't forget about Earth--and, it turns out, Earth isn't done with them, either!
1. Part One

Note: things in double parentheses ((like this)) are not part of the story; they are footnotes.

Distant Shores

S-Michael

It all started many years ago, on the now-extinct planet Namek. Frieza was an unstoppable killing machine: he killed Vageta, Picolo, Krillin. Then he killed Goku, and something inside of Gohan—well, it snapped. Power that he didn't even know he had was unleashed, and he ripped Frieza's head off—literally.

Using the grim trophy to intimidate Frieza's men, he ordered them to get the Nameks to safety. It was the fastest way he could think to get the job done—the planet was going to explode, and somehow, he just didn't think that appealing to their better natures was going to work. Unfortunately, they then wanted him to be their king.

At first, he refused. Then King Cold came after them. Gohan, Bulma, the refugees from Namek. Many Nameks died, but Gohan unleashed the power again. During that attack, he learned to unleash it at will, but still he refused the throne. After the Cooler incident, every bad-ass in the galaxy seemed to want to prove that they were tougher than he was. His repeated refusals of the throne did nothing but give them courage, make them believe that he wasn't as tough as all that, make them believe that they could take him, in spite of mounting evidence to the contrary.

So Gohan took the throne. He was now the king of the galaxy. He made Bulma his royal advisor, because even with all the intervening years between that day and when he first stepped onto the surface of Namek, he was still a child. During his rein, he ended Frieza's colonialistic practices, created havens for aliens made refugee by…well, Frieza, and created a system of law that resembled something a civilized nation might have, basically just plagiarized from what they could piece together from their memories of Earth's legal system. They were hailing him as King Gohan the Great.

Too bad he couldn't go back home and check, but they agreed long ago that it wouldn't do to let these muscle-bound cretins know where their home planet is. As much as it hurt Gohan to know that he would never see his homeworld again, he knew it must hurt Bulma more. She was an adult woman, who should be having a family, or at least dating, cast among the monsters with no human companions but a young boy—and he was only half human!

Gohan, age 12 

The king of the galaxy wore no crown, carried no scepter. He wore plain clothes and while Frieza had always tried to look tough and intimidating, Gohan chose a more laid-back image. An "I'm so tough, I don't need to intimidate you," sort of thing. His people knew that there was a reason that Frieza's banner wasn't flown over the capitol any more.

The king was relaxing in his garden, watching an alien version of a butterfly pollinate an alien version of a flower. He cherished these moments of piece. They didn't happen very often. He was constantly getting petitions, and he'd have to talk them over with Bulma, and then decide whether to grant or deny them, and then no matter what he decided, people would always be reading things into them that they shouldn't be. It was exhausting work. And recently it had gotten more complicated still.

Gohan was a boy blossoming into adolescence, and Bulma was the only human female within several hundred light-years—do the math. He was developing feelings for her, that he knew that she would never return, and it was driving him crazy. He couldn't help himself.

"Hey, Gohan, we've been looking for you," Dende's voice called. Gohan had given him a job as his personal secretary. Partly to have a friend near, and partly to help the Nameks get back on their feet after the destruction of their planet.

He looked towards the source of the voice, and there he was—and so was Bulma. Gohan's heart caught in his throat. Was she really this beautiful, or was it just the complete lack of any other human contact? Both, probably. Back on earth, he'd probably just think of her like a second mother. Back on Earth, he'd have girls his own age to obsess over. Gohan forced himself to control himself.

He smiled at them. "Should I be glad, or am I going to have to get back to work?"

"The latter, I'm afraid," Dende said. "The Ra'Zirr are petitioning again."

"Again? This is the fifth time!" Gohan said. He almost said, _Tell them no,_ but then realized that unless he did it himself, they'd refuse to leave until they had seen him. "I'd better go tell them no."

Gohan went to the throne room, features composed to act regal. He hadn't been king very long, just over two years, but he had always been a quick study. The Ra'Zirr petitioner bowed—or did the closest thing to a bow his roach-like body could accomplish. Going down on all ten limbs would have been undignified, so he folded his front four limbs close to his abdomen and bent down close to the ground, close enough that he would have been on all ten if he had stuck his arms out. That one slight difference was the difference that said that though he was a vassal, he had self-respect; he respected the king, but he was not a toady. Odd, the difference such a small thing could mean.

"Your Imperial Majesty," the Ra'Zirr said, rising to his back to arms somewhat unsteadily. "I've come here to beg that you reconsider the grant you have refused my people."

"You have already received several grants, and this one did not seem like a valuable use of tax money," Gohan said.

"You simply do not understand what it means to our people. You have never walked in our streets, you have never learned our history, our lore. You do not come from our worlds," the petitioner said curtly.

Gohan had an idea. He shrugged, nonchalantly. "Let it never be said that I do not have an open mind. You say I can't understand because I have not walked your streets and do not know your lore. Very well. I shall do both. Dende, prep my personal ship for me, my advisor, and yourself. Bulma, find me someone to rule in my stead." The people were shocked. "What? Think of it as a vacation…the first one I've had in the last two years, come to think of that."

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Gohan really did need a vacation. A Namek who had proven himself during the years while Gohan was still running from King Cold and other assorted bad guys was selected to rule in his stead, and Gohan left for one of the three worlds currently occupied by Ra'Zirr. The nearest being two weeks away.

Gohan still had to read up on every scrap of information that he could find on the Ra'Zirr (They were the only people in the galaxy to have ever taken on a full-scale Saiyan invasion…and survived), true, but no petitioners! No matters of state! No trying to smooth over the arguments of various factions! He was free! It was just him, and Dende…and Bulma.

Gohan sighed. They had been on this boat together several days, and just like on the trip to Namek all those years ago, she had stopped wearing pants. He hadn't cared when he was five—now, though, oh, boy, did he ever care! He wasn't sure why he was surprised. Back then there was a grown man with them, even if Krillin was short and bald. That hadn't made her keep pants on, so why should she do it now, when it was just a little boy and an alien? _Dear God, I'm lucky she keeps her top on!_ An image of her doing the exact opposite of that came to the forefront of his brain as if summoned. _Damnit, Gohan, control yourself!_ It was useless, however; he knew what he felt about how "lucky" he was. Gohan shook his head, trying to clear it. It wasn't fair. He was twelve years old, going through puberty knowing that he was halfway across the galaxy from any chance of not dying a virgin. _Unless Bulma likes little boys, that is._ Yeah, that was not going to happen. He remembered with irony when he was younger, thinking how sorry he was for Bulma, and the fact that she was alone, so far away from any chance she had of dating, marriage, children, and the like, not truly comprehending that as he grew older, that stuff would matter to him, as well. He was, if anything, more alone than she was; the object of his lust was within touching distance, which only served to emphasize how far away she was.

"Hey, Gohan, let's play," Dende said, spreading a game board onto the floor.

"Sure," Gohan said.

"I'm game," Bulma said.

The game was like Risk, but instead of a map of the earth they played on a map of the galaxy. It was an old game: the board had on it the Saiyan empire, Planet Namek, and the Ra'Zirr Republic, none of which existed anymore. The object was to conquer your enemies and declare yourself the emperor of the galaxy. Gohan won the first time, declaring himself emperor of the galaxy—the funny thing was that it was also true.

"Ah, man, I'm pooped," Bulma said. The game had taken hours. "I'm going to bed."

Gohan yawned. "Yeah, me too."

Bulma had been lying down to play, and then she got to all fours before getting up—while on all fours, she flashed cleavage generously. Dende, if he noticed, didn't care. Why should he? He was a Namek. "See ya, sport," she said, ruffling Gohan's hair, not noticing that he had frozen in place.

"You alright?" Dende asked.

"I…I've got to go to the bathroom."

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The next game, Bulma won. When she declared herself empress of the galaxy, Gohan had to check himself before he blurted out _You want to be?_ She got up fast, so he wasn't able to catch a glimpse of cleavage this time. _Damn!_

"Dinner time," Bulma said.

"Get me something too, please," Gohan asked.

"Me? Empresses don't cook," Bulma said.

"Aw, but I'm an emperor in real life," Gohan protested.

They looked at Dende. "What? Nameks don't eat, you know."

"And?" Gohan asked.

"Think about it. Would you want a blind man to paint you a portrait?" Dende asked.

"Just whip us up some sandwiches, nothing fancy," Bulma said. "Gohan and I have homework to do." They still weren't done reading about the Ra'Zirr.

They read together in silence as they ate Dende's sandwhiches. He had seen them preparing these things for themselves not to mess up. Too badly. Gohan made a mental note of the fact that he did not particularly fancy the taste of peanut butter and mayonnaise sandwiches. Bulma was eating a ham and jelly one, which was probably better than what he had. Getting a blind man to paint his portrait, Dende had said, or something like it. It was an apt comparison. Dende played solitaire (which he had been taught by Gohan and Bulma, by the way) as the other two read. Then it was time for sleep, and Gohan went to bed.

That night, he dreamed of Bulma. In his dream they on Earth, but they were alone. They were in the Capsule Corp building, which he only vaguely remembered.

"It's time," Bulma said in his dream.

"You mean it?"

"I want you."

"I love you, Bulma," Gohan said.

She hugged him close and kissed him ferociously. "Now's not the time for talk." They were both suddenly naked, it was time to do it…and Gohan didn't know what to do! "Oh, I see. You're still just a boy, Gohan, I'm sorry. This was a mistake."

"No, Bulma, wait!" Gohan cried. "You can teach me! Just tell me what to do, and I can do it, I swear!"

Bulma shook her head, smiling. "Bye, Gohan," and she fazed out into thin air.

Gohan went outside, and he was well and truly alone now. He walked down the street, the sound of winds like the howling wail of ghosts, but he felt nothing. He heard a crunching sound, and he looked down. There were little ten-legged roaches scurrying around a miniature glass city, and he had just stepped on city hall. The little roaches were shacking fists at him, cursing at him. "You damn Saiyan, first you destroy our world, then you destroy this one?" one of the roaches' tiny voices carried.

"What do you mean?"

"Look around," the roach said. The city was destroyed, and the surrounding forrest and fields turned to desert and ash. Vegeta came walking up, a hole through his body where Frieza had blasted him when he died, and he was holding a severed head.

"Hey, look what I found," Vageta said, lifting it for inspection. Gohan gasped. It was his mother's head. "Pretty neat prize, ain't it, sir?"

Gohan woke up in a cold sweat. Man, how did such a promising dream turn into that nightmare? He went back to sleep, but it wasn't easy. When he did, his dreams were…more pleasant.

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"You have the hots for Bulma," Dende said.

"What? What gives you that idea?"

"I may be an asexual being, but I've hung around you guys enough to pick up a thing or two. You were saying her name in your sleep and you—lets just say that you weren't having a nightmare," Dende said.

"How did you—how _could_ you—" and then he looked at Dende's ears. _I suppose those aren't just for decoration, are they? _((Picolo says something along these lines in the canon, but not until the appearance of Trunks.)) "You aren't going to tell Bulma, are you?"

"Why not?" Dende asked.

"Because I'm a thirteen-year-old boy and she's an adult woman, that's why," Gohan said. (He was using the Galactic Standard Years, which were a little bit shorter than Earth's years.) "That just isn't done!"

Dende shrugged. "Okay, but I just don't get it."

"Blind man painting a portrait, remember?"

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Gohan, Bulma, and Dende walked down the crystal-paved streets of the crystalline city. With any other people, this would have been a sure sine of wealth, but the Ra'Zirr had to be surrounded by crystal most of the time for their entire lives, they were metaphysically dependent on it. The principle was similar to why Gohan turned into a giant ape when he saw the full moon. This need was the only thing that held the Ra'Zirr back from total galactic conquest…until the Saiyans came, that is.

The monarch and his party were greeted with as much fanfare as the Ra'Zirr could muster. There had been parades—well, the Ra'Zirr equivalent of them, anyway—for three days, but now, thankfully, it had died down.

"This city was built on the model the old capitol city on your home world," Gohan said.

"You have been studying our history, I see, sire," their guide said. He had been, but this tidbit had actually come from a brochure. "Yes, we had. This city is identical to the old capitol in every way. Except for one, that is."

"The Orb of Tornam," Gohan said. This was why he was here in the first place. "A giant sphere of crystal, big enough to have been building materials for one and a half cities this size."

"It was a testament to the power of the Ra'Zirr," the guide said.

_The question is,_ thought Gohan, _do I want a potentially volatile element of my kingdom to remember that they were once a superpower in their own right?_

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"We don't want to spend the galaxy's tax money on something so frivolous as this," Bulma said, "and yet, this _is_ important to the Ra'Zirr. It's a part of their history, nay, their life story. I've got it. We do not give them the money, but we do give them priority mining on any world once inhabited by the Ra'Zirr. After all, why pay for a new one, when we may well find the authentic Orb of Tornam? Besides which, this lets them take part in it's reconstruction. Symbols of power are kind of hollow when you have to ask for a hand out in order to build them, you know?"

"Genius, Bulma," Gohan said enthusiastically. Of course, he probably would have said that, even if it was the dumbest idea ever. He hoped that he wasn't that blinded by his besottedment, but probably.

"Yeah, I am," she said. "Now let me find a way to put that into law-speak and spin it a way that will make everybody cheer."

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The Ra'Zirr stood on their hindmost limbs so that they could clap with four pairs of hands each. The Ra'Zirr didn't really have arms or legs to speak of, any of their limbs could function as either arm or leg. They often went down onto then legs for speed, and they could stand on just their front two legs and act as though their ass were their head, but that would be uncomfortable. And probably embarrassing, especially if nobody noticed.

There was a loud noise, and Gohan looked up. Part of the building crumbled, and several thousand pounds of crystal was aiming to land on their head. Gohan blasted it efficiently, turning it into dust, and flew off with Bulma in his arms. Dende followed.

He felt her body against his, and it sent electric chills through him. Yeah, he had just been attacked, but it wasn't a very good assassination attempt, and besides, two years ago, everyone was trying to kill him. He had learned to shrug that kind of thing off. _This_ kind of thing, however, this he _did not_ know how to shrug off. _Think about baseball._ He didn't know a damn thing about baseball. He hadn't even been to the Earth itself since he was five. He looked up at the night sky, trying to find out which star was Sol, Earth's sun. The universe was an ocean, and all the worlds were but islands. Somewhere on those distant shores was a barely remembered life, a life that had nothing to do with fighting or battles or ruling an empire. He wished he were there. He wished that his father had lived, and had killed Frieza. He wished, but you know what they say about wishes; you might as well wish for a kingdom—oh, wait, he already _had_ one of _those_.

"Too damn long," Bulma murmured. They landed outside of the ship and went inside. "I hope I didn't breathe any of that crystal dust."

Maybe the attack had made him more anxious than he realized, or maybe pressing her body against his was too much for him, or maybe he just temporarily lost control of his senses, but he floated up to be at eye level with her and he kissed her. To his surprise, she kissed back. When he pulled back, she was staring at him, as if she was as surprised as he was that she had kissed back. "Like I said, too damn long. I've been away from men for too damn long if _you_ are starting to look good to me. And feel good…" she blushed. "I don't think that this is a good idea."

"Why not?"

Bulma opened her mouth to speak, thought, and then closed it. "To tell the truth, most of the stock answers don't seem to hold a lot of weight. _It will screw you up for life._ More than being hunted for five years? More than seeing your father and friends murdered before your eyes? _You won't be able to have a normal sex life after this._ The nearest person you could have a normal sex life with is eleven hundred light-years away, more if we're talking Galactic Standard Years. Even if they weren't we can't go there, for fear of leading some powerful bad guys to our quaint little home world. _I'm not into that sort of thing._ Well, I'm not, but it has been seven years since I have even _seen_ another human being. Hell, some of the more humanoid aliens are beginning to look good to me—and this after that whole thing with the one guy (did he have blue skin and green hair or green hair and blue skin?). The only chance we have is each other."

Gohan was perfectly content to let her talk herself into seeing him as a love interest, but then one of the Ra'Zirr knocked on the door. "Excuse me, sire, but we have apprehended the assassins responsible for that incident…sort of."

"Sort of?"

"They're resisting arrest, and they are pretty strong. They've been flying about shooting energy at anyone who gets too close. I thought that maybe you could…take care of it, your highness?"

Gohan made an exasperated sound and flew off, the Ra'Zirr followed. "So, who is it?"

"Some Ra'Zirr who rose very high in Freeza's ranks; they liked the way things were run before, and resent the change. Xenophobic reactionary bullies, sire."

"I know the type," Gohan said. They cropped up from time to time.

There were three Ra'Zirr flying above the crowd, fending off a dozen others with red-and-blue body paint that marked them as police officers, and the assassins seemed to have the upper hand.

"I shall take care of these," Gohan said. The constables backed off floating down to the planet.

"Ah, so you have decided to face us like a man, _your majesty_," one of them sneered.

"Excuse me? Refresh my memory, but who tried to kill who with a dirty backhanded trick?" Gohan reminded them.

The Ra'Zirr trembled in the air—a sure sign that he was losing his concentration—and then regained his composure. "What do you expect? You've created a fuzzy, soft, touchy-feely galaxy. You've turned an empire of mighty warriors into an empire of bleeding hearts! Mighty Frieza knew what strength was. He knew what it _meant!_"

"You've forgotten something about Frieza," Gohan said. "I killed him."

He was facing three warriors of the Ra'Zirr, which meant they had thirty fists they could hit him with. Gohan summoned the power hidden within him, the power that had allowed him to defeat Frieza, even though for his father, even becoming a Super Saiyan hadn't been enough. With this power, He killed King Cold. With this power, he defeated Cooler. He might be able to defeat them without it, after all, he had been training his body all these years, but even if he did, it would be nearer than he could afford. Even though Gohan didn't threaten his subjects, his power rested on his strength, just as much as Frieza's power had. More so, in fact, because he didn't want to have to spend all of his time fighting, and in the empire Frieza made, that meant he had to appear to be invincible. If these people even suspected weakness, they would attack him like sharks in a feeding frenzy.

Powered up as he was, they stood no chance. Moving faster than they could react to, he flew in close and punched one to the ground. One tried to punch him, but Gohan grabbed him by the fist (third limb from the bottom on the right), spun and tossed him into the third. Both went flying into a building, which shattered. Gohan quickly vaporized the falling pieces of crystal before they could harm any innocent bystanders.

"Have them sent to the prison planet," Gohan ordered the constables. One of them nodded—or did the Ra'Zirr equivalent of a nod, which looked like the striking motion of a poisonous snake. He made hand gestures to the others, and Gohan flew back to his ship, a Ra'Zirr official offering his deepest apologies for the incident.

Gohan entered the ship, "Affairs of state," he said. It said something about the nation he ruled that that was true. "So, uh, Bulma…"

"I want to give it some time," Bulma said.

"We could, like, date and stuff," Gohan said.

"Sounds good," Bulma said.

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That's what they _said_. In point of fact, when the king of the galaxy got out of his personal ship and set foot on the capitol two weeks later, he was virgin only in technicality.

_Feeling good,_ Gohan thought.

"Your majesty, we've got this report from the Ra'Zirr," a Namek counselor said as soon as he got off the ship/

"They found their Orb already? Wow, that was fast."

"I'm afraid that that is not it, sire," the Namek said. "One of their worlds has been decimated."

"What?" Gohan demanded. "By who? How many?"

"We're not sure who, but as for how many, there were three."

"Three what, three battalions?"

"No, three individuals."

"Just three people destroyed a world of Ra'Zirr?" Gohan demanded. The Ra'Zirr, who lost to the Saiyans, but not by much.

"I'm afraid so. We have their descriptions right here," He handed his king the drawings.

"This is them?" Gohan asked.

"According to the handful of survivors."

Gohan looked at the pictures. One was a large man with a green coat and a big Mohawk. Another was a dark-haired boy wearing an ascot. The third was a pretty blonde girl. Under each picture was written #16, #17, #18, respectively. "What do these numbers mean?" he asked.

"Those appear to be their names, sire."

"These three took out an entire planet?" Gohan asked.

"Well, two of them did. The one called sixteen doesn't fight, or talk very much, either. When he does talk, he's usually asking about someone named Goku."

"Goku?" Gohan asked.

"I've never heard of him, either, sire."

Gohan looked at these people. Who were they? What was the deal with their names? How was it that they were powerful enough to off a planet that even the whole of the Saiyan army would have had a struggle with? How did they know his father? _Why_ did they sack a planet? There were too many questions, and not enough answers. Gohan looked up at the night sky—this world had no moon—and looked at the stars. The universe was an ocean, and somewhere out there was a little island called Earth. He had been born on those distant shores, and had thought he'd never see his native people again. Now they had sailed out into his kingdom, and he would find them—and punish them for what they had done. But if they had done what he had been told that they had done, they were very powerful. He might have to train.

**That is the conclusion of Part One. Stay tuned for Part Two.**


	2. Part Two, Chapter One

Note: author's commentary in double parentheses ((like this)). Parentheses within parentheses (that's when you have something like this (and then something else like this)) are not the same ting as double parentheses. I don't know if it will come up, but I thought I'd mention it, just in case.

Distant Shores

Part Two: Shadows of Earth

Chapter One

S-Michael

**Gohan, age 15**

The king of the galaxy awoke in his wife's arms. Gohan and Bulma were technically newlyweds, but the reason they were even getting married in the first place was because Bulma was pregnant. He was both more and less dependant on Bulma now than he was five years ago. Less, because as he got older and wiser he began to develop his own ideas about how to run his kingdom. More, because he loved her.

He got out of bed so as not to disturb his wife and sat down at the desk. He was supposed to be on his honeymoon, but even on vacation, he couldn't stop thinking about those three phantoms of space. The humanoids sixteen, seventeen, and eighteen-even after three years of chasing every lead he could find, those were still the only names he had for them.. They looked human, but how could humans be so powerful? The whole reason Gohan had never returned to Earth was that he didn't know what might follow him and devastate civilization on the small planet. If these beings were human, though, his fears had been completely unfounded.

Everywhere they went, destruction and chaos followed. The pattern was clear: they came to a planet, toppled it, fought and killed anyone who showed promise as a fighter, got bored, and left. The had done this dozens of times already. _It's all a game to them, isn't it? Destroying all those worlds, ruining all those lives…it's all just so fun to them, isn't it?_ Gohan clenched his fists. He didn't care if they _were_ human; after what they did, they were going to die. Gohan was a gentle soul, but he could kill when he had to. If he couldn't, he wouldn't be here. Well, he _might_ be here, but he'd be here as a stuffed and mounted trophy of Frieza's, not as the usurper of his throne.

"Still working?" Buma asked. "Come back to bed. We're entitled to our honeymoon, aren't we?"

Gohan got in bed. "I just can't stop thinking about them," he said. "Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Why do they call themselves this? What is the significance of these numbers to them? Are they some sort of army unit? If so, what happened to numbers one through fifteen?"

"I know what you mean," Bulma said. "I can't stop asking myself tens of thousands of questions regarding them. Still, taking one night off won't destroy the universe, and we definitely deserve it."

"I know, I know. That doesn't make it any easier to forget."

"I know something that will help us both forget for a moment."

Gohan grinned. "You know, that just might work."

"You'll be a good king, when you're finally old enough to not have to listen to me," Bulma said.

"I'll never be that old."

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_My dearest Bulma,_

_As much as it pains me to leave you on the verge of our honeymoon, I must. I fear that you may not survive an encounter with these people. They have stalled at Malcath, but not because they have been waylaid; they are apparently enjoying themselves as they break the people of that world. Malcath, as you know, is inhabited by Frieza's people. While it is true that Frieza was one of the strongest of his kind, he wasn't freakishly abnormal, and so you can well imagine how powerful these three must be if they can terrorize a whole world and more of Friezas--or rather, you can't._

_Bulma, you mean the galaxy to me. You are my everything. You are the only point of light within my dark universe. I do not know what I would do without you. Earth is nothing to me but a faded memory, and the only other human beings in the galaxy that I know of are the ones that I'm going to kill--and sometimes I wonder if they are even human at all! They're invisible to scanners, and they don't seem to be having any trouble in Malcath's harsh environs. That world may or may not be the one in which Frieza's race evolved, but it certainly would warrant the evolution of such a race, and indeed, and the Malcathi are even hardier than is usual for their people._

_The point is, I'm going to need special training if I am to defeat these monsters. If I remember correctly, my father once trained in one hundred times earth gravity, though I don't remember who told me. It was not enough. If I am to defeat these three, I must train much, much harder. You would never survive on a ship with so much gravity, so I wouldn't be able to bring you, even if I thought it was a good idea. Please, don't come after me. If I die, you must go on. We have allies now, so it won't be as it used to be. In fact, since these three are from earth, there is no reason that I can think of why you couldn't go back there. No reason why our child couldn't be raised with his or her own kind._

_If you do go back to Earth, tell my mom_

Here he stopped. What would he have her say to his mom? He didn't really remember his mother. She was part of a world that was more abstract than real to him by this point in his life. He didn't know what he would say to her. He didn't know what he would have Bulma say to her. Then it hit him that he was a fifteen-year-old boy who was having a baby with his mom's best friend, or at least the woman who _had_ been her best friend; a lot could change in ten years. He didn't know what that meant (and that alone said something about how far removed he was from the Earth), but he knew that whatever it was wasn't good.

_If you do go back to Earth, and you should meet my mother, well, I trust your judgment. Tell her what you will. About me, about what we have done, about us. I don't remember what the Earth was like, but I have an idea that a relationship between a woman your age and a man my age (would I be considered a man, even?) would be frowned upon, so I would understand if no one knew who the baby's father was. But that is neither here nor there. Go where you will. Do what you will, but I implore you, don't do something stupid, like trying to avenge my death. Just try to survive as best as you can. Survive for me, even if you don't feel like you can. I need you to survive. I love you._

_I know that I'm being stupid. I know that I'm being childish. I know that I mean as much to you as you do to me, maybe even more, because you remember the world that I am your last tie to, and I not so much. I know that you would be as devastated with my death as I would be with yours. But even though I know this, I can't help myself. Maybe I'm just being selfish. Anyway, I know that you will understand. As a matter of fact, you'll probably understand what I'm doing better than I do. You always were the brains of the operation._

_Love you with all that I am,_

_Gohan_

Gohan considered putting a PS in, but he couldn't think of what he would say in it. Still, it didn't seem…enough. He shrugged, left the note where Bulma would find it, and left the honeymoon suite.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

"I am exhausted, my lord," Heater said. Heater was a Malcathi, and some relative of Frieza's, a third cousin or something.

"We have to keep training," Gohan said.

"We've been training from when we awaken to when we fall over with exhaustion and sleep for thirteen days," Heater said. "You cannot tell me that you are not exhausted. I've used all of my transformations, and you're working under a hundred times the gravity that I am."

Gohan looked at the floating orbs. They were personal gravity regulators, PGRs, the latest thing. His was set at ten times ship gravity, Heater's at one tenth's ship gravity, and the ship's gravity was at standard.

"I'm only at ten gravities!" Gohan said.

"Correction, you're at ten _Saiyan_ gravities. That's like a hundred in real life!" Heater said.

"Oh, right, this is a Saiyan ship, isn't it?"

"Yes, sire. That's why you took it, remember?"

"One hundred gravities, eh?"

"Yes, sire."

"How long until we reach Malcath?"

"Eighty-seven days," Heater said. "Let's rest."

"Not yet," Gohan said. "Computer, turn up the gravity, one-point-one. Heater, turn down your PGR, at least to eleven, more if you feel you have to. I need to keep training."

"You're going to kill me, sire!" Heater complained. "First my cousins, and now me. What is this, some insidious plot?"

"Look, Heater, these people are crushing a whole solar system of your people under their jackboot. If I am to save your people, I need to be as strong as I can be."

"Sorry for the lip, sir."

Gohan reconsidered. "On the other hand, we could use a five minute break, get a glass of water, whatever."

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

At first, Heater had looked nothing like Frieza. His kind loved to transform, and usually the farther from their true form a form was, the better. When Gohan had first met Heater, his tail hid been two, which he had used to slither snake-like, he had four arms, and he had a main of purple hair. As he had transformed, his hair thickened into horns and eventually were absorbed into his flesh, his lower arms became gradually lower and more leg-like, and his tails became one. Eventally, the creature that stood before him resembled Frieza--a lot.

As he trained, he focused on Heater, and he realized that even after all these years, he still hated Frieza. It made sense: Frieza had taken from him all that he had ever loved. His father? Killed by Frieza. Krillin? Killed by Frieza. Mr. Piccolo? Killed by Frieza. The Earth? His mother? They still existed, but he would never see either of them again--and again, this was because of Frieza. Frieza was responsible for everything that had happened. Hell, if it hadn't been for Frieza, Vageta would never have come to Earth in the first place, and he'd be a normal boy living a normal life. Well, as normal as you get when you have a tail. And you turn into a giant ape when you look at the full moon.

"Sire!" Heater shouted.

Gohan stopped in the middle of what would have been a killing move. He had already beaten Heater, who was sprawled on the ground, looking up at him with unadulterated terror. "I think that that's enough for today. Are you alright?"

"Uh…fine, sire," Heater said, not meaning it.

"Well, you should go ahead and rest. I think I'll be training solo for the rest of the day," Gohan said. Heater left the room. "PGR--storage!" He felt suddenly lighter as the gravity he was under divided by ten. He looked at the ship's gravity regulator. It said ten, which meant that it was at a hundred by human standards. "Ship, give me a hundred gravities in this room," he ordered. He was training under a thousand gravities, ten times what his father had done. But it still wasn't good enough. Goku had trained under a hundred gravities, and he was dead. The people Gohan was going to try to kill had made a whole planet of Friezas into their own personal plaything. "One hundred one gravities, ship!" One thousand ten. This ship informed him that the gravity generator could only do one hundred gravities. "PGR--on me! Set gravity amplification for one-point-oh-one," which was the same thing. He trained for a while, but he still wasn't good enough. "PGR--one-point-oh-five!" More training. "PGR--one-point-one." And so it went:

"PGR--one-point-one-five!"

"PGR--one-point-two!"

"PGR--one-point-three!"

"PGR--one-point-five!" And so it went.

"My god, sire, have you been training all night?" Heater asked.

"What time is it?" Gohan asked.

"Breakfast," Heater said. "How many gravities are you training under?"

Gohan looked at the ship's readout, and then looked at the GPR readout, and took a moment to do the math in his head. Heater, who know his sire to be a mathematical genius, took this to be a bad sign. "Two thousand."

"Look, sire, I know that you want to be strong when we reach my homeworld, but--"

Gohan collapsed.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

"What happened?" Gohan asked when he awoke.

"You're alive? Oh, thank god! I was afraid that you wouldn't survive."

That was when he realized that he was in one of the ship's recuperation pods, or whatever they were called. Ironically, he had never made an effort to study Saiyans. He got out and shook his hair dry. It was longer than it had been before. His eyes widened. "How long was I in there?"

"Just a day and a half. The pod did that to you, somehow. I don't know why; it never had that effect on Saiyans, I don't think," Heater said. ((In the canon, it is eventually revealed that a Saiyan's hair never grows or changes.)) "And as for what happened, you were training under two thousand gravity all night, that's what happened. You're no good to us if you get yourself killed, sire! Damn it, I thought you were smarter than this!"

"So did I," said Gohan. "I think…I think it may be time for a little break from training. Just for today. You know, open our e-mails and junk."

"I believe that that would be wise, Sire," Heater said, relieved.

"Man, I'm hungry," Gohan complained.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

Gohan ate what was for him a large breakfast ravenously, and then went to checked on his e-mail. There was one from Bulma. It read, quite simply:

_Gohan, I understand that you're probably training and are very busy, so just call me as soon as you can, okay? Bulma._

Gohan turned on the phone and called Bulma. Her picture came on screen. "What the hell took you so long! It's been three weeks since I sent that message!" Gohan remembered that a week was seven days, so that meant that she sent that letter at least twenty-one days ago. It had probably been twenty-two days ago, because that was when his ship left.

"Sorry, I've…well, I was _really_ into the training," Gohan said lamely. "In fact, I recently had a training accident, and so I'm taking the day off. That's the only reason I've gotten around to reading my messages."

"How bad of an accident?"

"I was unconscious for a day and a half," Gohan said. "I was being stupid, trying to train under two thousand gravities."

"My god, Gohan," Bulma said.

"I seem to be provoking that response a lot in recent history," Gohan said.

"I wonder why," Bulma said dryly.

Gohan looked at her. It was just an image in a screen, but…

"Gohan? What's wrong?"

"I miss you, love," Gohan said.

"I miss you, too, love," Bulma said sympathetically.

"So, what's been going on at the court, my queen?"

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

After he got off of the phone with Bulma, he wanted to do something productive with his time, but he had promised that he wouldn't train, so he was reading up. He had already read everything there was to read on the fugitives, so he was reading about Malcath. He had been calling Malcath a planet, which wasn't strictly true. It was a jumble of minor planets ((that means asteroids)), the largest of which being about half Earth's size. Dependant upon how the minor planets arranged themselves, there could be anything from nothing to ten gravities at any given point on the surface--which meant that there could be anywhere from no atmosphere to atmosphere pressure like that in an ocean. Heater's race may or may not have evolved there, but it's wildlife certainly had their most famous trait: the ability to survive without atmosphere indefinitely. Malcath also had a very erratic orbit, so that sometimes it was at the outer reaches of its star's planetary disk, and sometimes it was at the inner edge. No one but Heater's people would _want _to live in such a place! It was as beautiful as it was deadly to human life, however, like the rings of Saturn, real close up.

Saturn. Sister planet of Earth. Gohan tried to recall specific facts about it, but he couldn't, not really. Well, it must have rings, or else he wouldn't have used that expression to describe the world of Malcath. It was funny, how the subconscious mind remembered things and then brought them up when you least expected it. Gohan shrugged, and got back to work.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

"So, Heater, tell me about your people. What makes you so powerful?" Gohan asked.

"Transformation is a big pat of our culture," Heater said. He had transformed into his four-armed, twin-snake-tail form for the day, even though he knew he'd just have to turn back again, and was slithering about the kitchen. "You want anything while I'm up?"

"What's this ship got in way of junk food? It's been forever since I indulged in childish urges," Gohan said.

"Transforming costs energy, you see. That is to say, once you transform into a 'lesser' form, you only have a fraction of your original form. When you transform again, you only have a fraction of _that_ strength, you know? For most races, being able to transform a lot means that you can get really strong. For us, getting really strong means that you can transform a lot. The stranger a Malcathi looks, the more beautiful he is. I know; we're weird." He tossed Gohan a couple of candy bars.

"The Uhgr of Chka cut off their lower right arm for the sake of beauty. I guess it's really all up to culture," Gohan said, tearing into the candy. "You people are obviously stronger than almost anything in the galaxy, and yet aside from a handful of individuals like Frieza, your race has never tried to conquer the universe."

Heater shrugged. "Why would we need to. The asteroids, the gas giants, the small moons, these are our playground. You weaklings can have your M-class planets, there's so much more out there. Besides, we're pretty much a race of philosophers without interest in war, you know?"

"Do you think that when we get there, your people will be all transformed out? I mean--"

"All the bells and whistles, you betcha. You wouldn't even believe that any one was the same species as any other one, you know?"

"Ah," said Gohan. This was good. He didn't know if he could face a world full of Friezas.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

Goku fell to the earth, his power level, so close to Frieza's just now, was now gone. His hair which had turned yellow was once again black. His eyes which had turned blue were once again dark.

"DADDY!" Gohan screamed. Something inside of him snapped, and he blasted Frieza with everything that he had. The distant part of him that knew that this was a dream based on memory said that this was the part where he quite gruesomely tore off Frieza's head with his bare hands, but when he was about to do it, he froze. It wasn't Frieza he had killed: it was Heater. "NOO!"

Vagita was there, even though this was way after Frieza had killed him. "I see that you killed the little traitor, Lord Frieza," he said to Gohan. Frieza? Me? It couldn't be! "What do you want me to do with his friends?" Vagita gestured towards Dende, Bulma, inexplicably alive Krillin, Goku, and Piccolo…and another Gohan, a younger him.

"Kill them," Frieza's voice came out of Gohan's mouth.

"With pleasure, sire," Vagita said. He grinned as he shot them with a huge energy blast.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

Gohan was back under one thousand five hundred gravities, and feeling fine. He couldn't understand his new strength, but he was grateful for it.

"It's an old legend in the galaxy that when a Saiyan has a near-death experience, he comes back stronger than ever," Heater said.

"Interesting," Gohan said.

Heater picked up on the signs, "Oh, you are not going to try something stupid, like having a series of near-death experiences, are you? You were just lucky that I was there when you collapsed, or you would be dead, and then who would fight these monsters?"

"Fine, I won't," said Gohan, "but just think…"

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

Gohan flew around the planet, wearing a force-shield on his belt so that he wouldn't keel over and die every time he flew over an area less than hospitable to human life. Where were they? He knew that people from Earth could suppress their power levels, but never that they could extinguish them completely. Then again, he had never heard of humans anywhere near this powerful. In fact, wasn't the whole reason they never returned to Earth because they were afraid of being followed by the big, bad alien monsters to their weak and pathetic world?

"Well, well, well. Look at what we have here. This one actually looks human," a female voice said.

Gohan knew who it was before he saw her: "Eighteen." He spun around. Yes, it was her, she was somehow both more and less beautiful in person. Something was missing, and she did indeed have no readable power level.

"Oh, are you a fan? Dou you want my autograph, little boy?" she asked. "It's been a while since we left Earth, so I might be tempted to give you more than an autograph," she ran her eyes over his body meaningfully. "Before I kill you, I mean."

"I'm flattered, really," Gohan said dryly. "Too bad I'm married."

"Well, I never was one to break up a happy couple. I'll just kill you, then."

"You're too kind," Gohan was still dry.

"Hey now sister," A young man with dark hair and a kerchief flew up: Seventeen. "As I recall, You killed the last human we got to kill before the old man kicked us off the planet."

What the hell were they talking about? What old man kicked them off the planet? Gohan couldn't imagine any human being being strong enough to face these three, let alone face them and win, not even this Master Roshi fellow Bulma had told him about. Something wasn't right here…

"Aw, but he's more powerful by far than those weakling humans ever were."

"Tough, he's mine. Unless, of course, you want a shot at him, Sixteen. You haven't killed anything, human or alien," Seventeen said.

The third of the group showed himself. He looked at Gohan.

"What is it, Sixteen? Are you going to take me up on the offer for once?"

"The resemblance is remarkable," Sixteen said.

"The resemblance…oh, is this the Goku thing again?"

"What do you want, Sixteen?" Gohan demanded.

"I am looking for Goku," Sixteen said.

"Well, you're about ten years late. My father is dead. What business did you have with him? Did you know him? Because I don't remember ever hearing about you."

"I was going to kill him, but that is no longer relevant, since he is dead."

"You can kill his son, if that will give your programming solace." Seventeen said.

Programming? Gohan realized what was bothering him: For countless minutes, these "humans" had been breathing poisonous gas with no ill effects. He remembered something Bulma had said once, something about something called the Red Ribbon Army, "You…you're androids!"

"What, you thought we were human?" Eighteen asked. She laughed.

"There's no need," Sixteen assured Seventeen.

"Well, he's mine, then, but be a sport, boy; take off your force shield."

"I can't. This area of the planet is toxic to me. Don't worry, though; all this shield does is keep the good air in and the bad air out. It shouldn't impede our fight…unless, of course, you destroy it."

"Where would be the sport there?" Seventeen asked. "Let's do this."

Seventeen flew at him, throwing a few punches, which Gohan easily blocked. "Well, looks like you're not completely incompetent." He shot at Gohan with a power blast, and Gohan shot back. They circled each other, or rather they circled the big ball of energy that was growing in between them, like planets circling a sun. Gohan gave it a strong burst, and sent it towards Seventeen, who bashed it away, creating a crater that was impressive, even for this world. "My, but you _are_ impressive."

"Shut up. Is this a game to you? I am going to destroy you, don't you understand what the hell you people have been doing all this time?" Gohan demanded.

"Oh yes, this is most fun, isn't it?"

Gohan lunged at him across open air. Punch, miss. Punch, miss. Kick, miss. Punch, contact. Seventeen hit the ground going about mach 2. He didn't let up though; Gohan blasted Seventeen…and then the energy ball went flying. Seventeen was about to get up, but then he collided with Gohan's feet, which were going even faster than mach 2. Gohan twisted his feet. The rock under Seventeen crumbled to sand, but Seventeen blasted Gohan, sending him flying. Gohan caught himself before what went up could come down, straightened himself, and blasted at Seventeen. But he was also up, and launched himself into the air, so the blast missed.

"Oh, you're good," Seventeen said. "I haven't had a fight like this since…well, actually, never. You're the closest to an equal I have. Pathetic, ain't it?"

"Die, bastard!" Gohan lunged at him again. Punch, miss, but while he was doing that he also brought his feet up behind him in a maneuver that could only possibly work if you didn't need to have your feet on the ground and kicked Seventeen in the face. Gohan made his hands into fists and pressed them together pulling them apart to reveal a cord of pure energy about the thickness and length of a jump rope. "Wire of Ka'irith'rath!" he intoned. During these last three years, and during the years when he was a fugitive, and to a lesser extent while he was king, Gohan had been learning alien techniques. He wrapped the rope around Seventeen's neck in a garrote-esque maneuver, and pulled, fully intending to remove the android's head. The technique was in principle similar to Krillin's Destructro Disk. Seventeen did the exact same thing that Gohan had done to free himself when this attack had been used on him; he aimed his most powerful blast at Gohan's hands. It made him let go of the wire, which made the wire disintegrate. He kicked at Gohan, who went flying twelve yards before righting himself.

"How did you know?" Gohan demanded.

"I didn't, but one lives to hope. Letting you take my head would have severely disadvantaged me in the fight," Seventeen said.

"Oh, really? How about losing your body, then?" said Gohan a bit savagely. "Tayilhee Webwork!" Dozens, no, hundreds of tiny golden filaments shot from his fingertips and around Seventeen. It wrapped him around on all sides, paralyzing him.

Seventeen tried to force his way free with brute, but Gohan put more strength into the strings, and stopped him from succeeding. He relented. "Well, I must admit, that you _are_ stronger than I am, but I am still going to win."

"How do you figure that?" Gohan asked.

"You are flesh and blood. Eventually, you will fatigue. You will have to eat, have to rest, have to sleep some time. I am not encumbered like that. Already, you are breathing hard from your exerts here. Your power needs to be renewed, while mine lasts forever," Seventeen said.

"Well, then, I'm just going to have to finish you off before that happens, won't I?" Gohan asked. He formed energy into the shape of a sword, "Sword of--"

Seventeen flexed his power again, "Ah-ah-ah." Gohan had to redirect his power into the Webwork…which caused his sword to shrink and diminish. "You might as well let me out of this web of yours while you've still the strength to face me on equal terms. This is just going to drain you dry, and then you won't be a very tough opponent at all, just another weak little human."

"Oh, I've still got one trick up my sleeve," Gohan said. "Plants and animals of this world, give me the strength to defend you." Bits of energy began to be drawn to Gohan's hand from all over the place until it glowed like white phosphorus.

"What alien power is this?" Seventeen asked.

"Oh, this one is human born. Prepare to meet the Spirit Bomb," The last two words were intoned, and he shot it at Seventeen. The plants and animals of this world were very hearty, and they gave him enough strength with which to kill Seventeen. Then Eighteen got in the way of the blast, presumably to save her brother. Ah, well, the blast would kill them both. Sixteen came at the blast and knocked it aside like it was nothing, and proceeded to attack Gohan. It quickly became clear that Sixteen was the strongest of the three, the strongest by far and wide. Gohan tried to fight back, but couldn't lay a single punch.

Gohan was knocked to the ground, and quickly lost consciousness.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

"Sire, are you alright?" Heater asked.

"Yeah, but I don't know why I'm still alive," Gohan said.

"That bad, eh?"

"No, I actually had the upper hand on Seventeen in a one-on-one battle, and was about to strike the killing blow, too, when Sixteen interfered. That one, he is in a league of his own, I was nowhere near as strong as he was," Gohan said. He noticed that his hair was even longer than it had been. "The pod again?"

"Aye, sire."

"How long?"

"Three days, sire," Heater said.

Gohan swore. "There's no telling what they could have done in that time!"

"Actually, they left, sire. You may not have defeated them, but you did scare them off," Heater said. "By the way, the queen is coming. She said that the only reason she let you get away with leaving her behind was because you were nearing the end of the trail, but now that you're going to have to hunt them down again…"

No, this didn't add up. If they were afraid of him, why didn't they kill him while they had the chance? If they were toying with him, why not stay around until he was well enough to be toyed with? Not that he doubted that the androids liked a good game of cat and mouse-- but only as long as they were the cats. Something wasn't right with this picture.

Something was definitely wrong here.


	3. Part Two, Chapter Two

Distant Shores

Part Two: Shadows of Earth

Chapter Two

S-Michael

"They were here?" Gohan demanded.

"Yes, lord," the Malcathi said. His form looked a lot like the natural form of his people, except that there between his shoulders and his hips was something like the body of a giant anaconda. His tail was short and stubby and ended in a suction cup, assumably for better traction. He looked at Heater, who was in his four-armed form. "Four arms. That would certainly make my job easier; I ought to try that the next time I'm strong enough to acquire a new transformation."

"What were they doing here?" Gohan demanded.

"The criminals known as Sixteen, Seventeen, and Eighteen were looking for information about you. Who you were, your history, the worlds you frequent…"

"My god, they're going to bring the fight to you!" Heater said.

Gohan sensed something. "What's that?"

"What's what?" Heater asked.

"Get your scanner," Gohan said.

Heater put on the scanner. "A unique signature, and there's something else odd about it…"

"I think it's suppressed," Gohan said.

"King Gohan, I presume? My name is Cell." On this world, he didn't exactly look out of place, but his power was unique. It was a little like Frieza and King Cold, which put a chill in Gohan's spine, but he was also like Piccolo, Krillin…and Gohan's own father.

"I am he," Gohan said. "Tell me…what are you? No offense intended."

"It is a long story, but lets say I'm here to take care of your little android problem," Cell said.

"Are you, now?" Gohan asked skeptically. "What's your connection to the criminals, Cell?"

"How do you know that I have any connection to them at all?"

"I believe Seventeen said something about 'destroying that Cell-thing,' was that it?"

"Well, I'm obviously not destroyed," Cell said.

"Stop evading, Cell."

"I am a biological android created to destroy Seventeen and Eighteen. The problem is, Sixteen is too strong to me," Cell said.

"Yeah, well, Sixteen is too strong for me, as well," Gohan said.

"True, but together, together we are strong enough," Cell said. "So what do you say? We double-team Sixteen, and then I can kill the other two at my leisure."

Something wasn't right. "Why you?"

"Because it's what I was created to do," Cell said. "Would you take my destiny from me?"

"I don't know you. How do I know that you don't have any ulterior motives?" Gohan said.

"Like what?" Cell asked. "What ulterior motive could I possibly have for offing the three biggest bad guys in the galaxy?"

"I can think of a few dozen things. Mind, I can think of at least half a dozen reasons why each of those things wouldn't work, but still, maybe you haven't thought it out that far. Or maybe there's some other thing that I haven't thought of yet," Gohan said.

"My, being king of the galaxy has certainly given you a suspicious mind," Cell said.

"How do you know I'm not naturally suspicious?" Gohan asked.

"Perhaps I misspoke," Cell said.

"No, you spoke with familiarity," Gohan said. "How do you know me?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Cell said.

"Try me," Gohan said.

"Well, for one thing, I come from the future," Cell said.

"Okay…continue," Gohan said.

"I am a biological android engineered from DNA collected from your father, Piccolo, Krillin, Vageta, Frieza, and King Cold for the purpose of hunting and destroying these androids," Cell said.

Hence the name "Cell," thought Gohan. "You haven't been doing a very good job of it."

"It's this sixteen…he didn't exist in my home timeline, and he's as strong as I am," Cell said.

"Alright. Can you find my ship?"

"It's the only one of Saiyan design here," Cell said. "Believe me, it sticks out."

"Good. Wait for me there," Gohan ordered.

Cell left.

"Do you really think we can trust him?" Heater asked.

"Of course not," Gohan said. "I don't know what other option we have, though. The androids are too strong for even me. Well, sixteen, at least. Even among people in a league of their own, he is in a league of his own."

"Apparently not, if Cell is as strong as he claims."

"I believe him, that far, at least," Gohan said. "He was suppressing his power level."

"How do you know?"

"He was good at it, but there are ways that you can tell. Moments of distraction when his power would spike for an instant, that sort of thing," Gohan said. "Also, the way he acted. He moved like everything around him was made of glass. It's actually kind of funny; I don't think such thoughtfulness comes naturally to him, but he had to make the right impression if he wanted my help, didn't he?"

"Are you psychic now?" Heater asked.

Gohan snorted. "If I was psychic, I'd know what he was planning, and probably refuse to help him with it. No, I'm just good at reading people. It's a quality that comes in handy both as a fighter and as a ruler."

"So we are going to work with him, even though we don't trust him?" Heater asked.

"Something Bulma and I learned while we were on the run for two years, you do what you have to do to survive," Gohan said.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

"Tavilhee webwork!" Cell was encased with a thousand golden wires.

He smiled, and broke the golden netting. "Destructo disk!"

Gohan contained the disk with the webwork and crushed it. "What are you _thinking?_ If that thing had breached the hull of the ship, we'd all be dead!"

"Oh, right, I forgot, you can't breathe in space," Cell said.

Gohan rolled his eyes, exasperated. "How do you know that move, anyway?"

"I was created with the cells of all those fighters. With some of those cells came…memories," Cell said.

"What sort of memories?" Gohan asked.

"Fighting styles, mostly," Cell said.

"Anything about me?" Gohan asked.

"Well, yes, but…well the history of my timeline is…different than it is here," Cell said.

"How so?" Gohan asked.

"Well, Goku defeated Frieza in my universe," Cell said. "Vagita joined up with your lot, and then went on to be killed by the androids. You and Trunks lived on for a while--"

"Trunks?" Gohan asked.

"He doesn't exist in this universe, but he was the son of Vagita. His mother was…a human woman. Anyway, you two lived on for a while, but by the time I came along, you were dead," Cell said.

Gohan weighed his words in his head. The best lies were those that were closest to the truth, so he could safely assume that this "Trunks" person was real, and that Vagita really had come over to the god guys. After all, what would have been the purpose of inventing this? Just to have two more characters in his little play that the androids would have to destroy? No, didn't buy it. If there was a lie in there, it was somewhere in the last nine words. Anyway, back to reality, "Look, just try not to destroy the ship, okay?"

"I can't promise that," Cell said.

"Why don't you guys fight on the outside of the ship?" Heater asked. Gohan stared at him. "Don't give me that look; you still have that force shield, don't you?"

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

Gohan used the Wire of Ka'irith'rath to bounce the Destructro Disk back at Cell, and it cut off his arm.

"Oops! Look, Cell, we can fix--"

"Don't worry, it'll grow back," as if that were the cue, a new arm sprouted from the stump. It reminded him of something he had seen Nameks do from time to time, and he remembered that Cell had some of Piccolo's genes in him. "Ka…me…ha…me…ha!"

Gohan knew some tricks that would have allowed him to bat the attack aside, but he didn't want Cell to know all that he could do, so he faced off with the brunt of the attack. "Ka…me…ha…me…ha!" The two blasts met, and stalled each other. Gohan put everything he had into it, but Cell was still winning, the blast was slowly but surely getting closer to Gohan. Then Cell flexed, and it was no longer _slowly_ getting closer to Gohan; he had to dodge quickly in order to save his skin.

Cell gestured for Gohan to follow him inside (they were in space, so he couldn't speak). That was enough for a day. Now that he had someone to compare himself against, Gohan felt himself getting stronger at a faster rate than ever. They went into the ship, and Gohan went to his quarters.

"Bulma," he ordered the phone.

"Gohan?" Bulma asked. "How are things with Heater and Cell?" Gohan had been keeping her up to date.

"Getting stronger every day," Gohan said. "How are you?"

"Honestly? Horny. Hurry back so that we can do something about that," Bulma said. "How can you be standing it?"

"Two words: misplaced aggression. It is actually helping my training," Gohan said. "How's the baby coming along?"

"The same as it was yesterday," Bulma said. "What should we name it, do you suggest?"

"If it's a boy, I want to name it after my father. If it's a girl…what's a good name for a human girl? I don't really remember humanity," Gohan said.

"Something outlandish and original, like 'Trees,' or something," Bulma said softly.

" 'Trunks?'"

"Hmm. That seems kind of woody. Especially for a girl's name," Bulma said. "Why?"

"No reason," Gohan said.

"I think naming him after his grandfather if it's a boy is a good idea, though, so let's do that. If it's a girl, though, I reserve the right to name her," Bulma said.

Gohan smiled. "As you wish, my queen. You always were the dominant personality."

"Well, I should hope so. When we arrived on the scene, you were only five."

"And I want nothing more than for you to continue to dominate me. So, how are things back home?" Gohan asked.

"The androids haven't shown up yet, if that's what you mean," Bulma said. "As for what's going on in court politics…"

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Who was this Gohan kid? In Cell's home timeline, he had been nothing. Well, nothing special, at any rate. Here…Cell was actually a little bit afraid. He didn't realize it, but his people worshipped him like some sort of god (his memories from Frieza and King Cold told him that this was not right). Also, he wasn't even a Super Saiyan, but he was already more powerful than any of the others had been in Cell's home timeline. Even stronger than Trunks--and he had been the one who had defeated the androids! What was more, his strength was growing at an alarming rate.

If he ever learned to go Super Saiyan, he would be able to kill Cell, easily. Well, then, he mustn't learn that. Perhaps he couldn't go Super Saiyan. It made sense; he was half human, after all. But no, Trunks was half human, and he could do it. Then again, genetics were a funny thing. He thought about the ease with which the boy could go between his "hi-power" and "low-power" modes, like flipping a switch, no power-ups or -downs required. Perhaps this was his version of going Super Saiyan. Certainly, it had the same effect. But somehow, it didn't mesh right. The way he could go between the modes without expending any energy to get there was much more efficient than truly going Super Saiyan, and thus couldn't have been an inferior version of it. It was too…perfect.

Another thing that bothered Cell about the boy and his powers was that they didn't seem to need all that long to regenerate. They'd work out all day, and Cell would put the boy into a shape where he should have been dozing for a solid week, and then early the next morning he'd be up and totally refreshed. Raring and ready to go. And he'd be stronger than the day before. It was barely noticeable, but it was there. What was the true depth, the true source of this power? Was it Saiyan in nature, or human? Was it both or neither? There were no answers. Only more questions.

Well, Cell would watch the boy. If he ever showed signs of turning Super Saiyan, he'd kill him. He'd find some other way to defeat Sixteen. In the mean time, he'd be cautious, but he wouldn't worry about it too much.

Gohan came up with the idea of making a scanner that could find the androids' power signatures, and asked what Cell knew about the androids' schematics. Cell considered feigning ignorance, because if they could make a scanner, they could make, say, some sort of paralysis machine that would allow Gohan or some lackey of his destroy them at his or her leisure, but decided to tell him everything he knew about their schematics--which was everything, as he had them hardwired into his memory (except for Sixteen, of course). After all, if they tried that route, he could always sabotage the attempt.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

"The androids are here," Bulma said over the phone.

"Are you alright?" Gohan asked.

"Yeah, they landed on the far side of the planet and are taking their sweet time in coming here, as if they're trying to scare the people off, or playing some sort of game."

"That's what they do. It's all a game to them. Crushing worlds is their idea of fun," Gohan said.

"They're monsters," Bulma said.

"Yeah, well, that's why they need to be destroyed," Gohan said.

"There's something else you need to know. The people…they aren't evacuating."

"What! Why not?" Gohan demanded.

"They have such faith in you. They believe that you'll come in and save them at the last moment," Bulma said.

"Well, I certainly hope that I don't come in at the _last_ moment, but otherwise, I'll try not to disappoint them," and with those grim words, he turned off the phone. He swore.

He told Heater. "Great Kai!" Heater swore. Many people out here believed in beings called Kai, who were the guardians of the universe, or some such. Gohan was vehemently yet quietly skeptical on this point. After all, if they existed, why didn't they step in to stop the androids? Or earlier, to stop Frieza and the Saiyans? "Still, what do you expect?"

"I expect my people to behave sensibly," Gohan said.

"The people are deeply loyal to you, sire," Heater said.

"I guess!" I just hope I'm worthy of that loyalty.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

"You should rethink your choice of allies," Sixteen said, seeing that Gohan was fighting with Cell.

"That's the pot calling the kettle black," Gohan said.

"They are my siblings; it cannot be helped. You have no idea what you will be helping to happen if Cell gets what he wants," Sixteen said.

"True, but I know what will happen if you get what you want, and it cannot be allowed," Gohan said.

"I was hoping not to have to kill you, but you give me no choice," Sixteen said.

"The feeling is mutual," Gohan said.

Cell flew at him and began throwing punches, which Sixteen dodged with ease. Or with seeming ease. His range of expression was far from fluid. Gohan shot at him with a series of blasts, all of which missed. Sixteen was throwing punches at Cell, but they were actually pretty even. Cell was dodging with about the same vigor that Sixteen had dodged him with.

Gohan flew at Sixteen as fast as he could, feet first, and kicked him with such force that it could have caused an earthquake. Sixteen felt it, showing the first sign of his power actually having limits that Gohan had seen yet. Cell took advantage of the momentary distraction to grab Sixteen's head with both hands, and would have torn it form his shoulders if Sixteen hadn't of torn Cell's arms from their sockets instead.

Just like when Gohan had wounded him, Cell did not bleed. Instead of being deterred by this loss, Cell attacked with his feet and his tail, kicking, slapping, and trying to stab Sixteen with what continued to remind Gohan disturbingly of a hypodermic needle.

Sixteen grabbed Cell by the tail and used it to whirl him and then toss him at the into the ground, causing earth and stone to shatter. Gohan blasted him with a Kamehameha wave at point blank range. Sixteen screamed, but it actually did more damage to Gohan by sapping his strength than it did to Sixteen.

Cell flew up to meet them and removed Sixteen's head from his shoulders with a karate chop. He then blasted the android's body, blowing it to pieces. They stared at each other, panting.

"With him out of the way, the other two are easy picking for the likes of us," Cell said. "Hey, Heater, get up here and track them with that scanner."

Heater flew up to them. "Alright, but don't you think you two should recuperate a little?"

"Oh, I intend to," and with those words, Cell impaled him and started…sucking was the only word Gohan could think of for what he was doing. Cell's power level skyrocketed.

"Wire of Ka'irith'rath," Gohan intoned, and used the garrote-esque energy wire to slice Cell's tail off. Heater fell to the ground with a loud _thud_.

"Hay, now, what did you do that for? No matter. It would have taken a dozen humans to reinvigorate me the way he did, and I didn't even get to finish him off," Cell said.

"What a callous attitude towards killing. I'm surprised you aren't on the same side as the androids," Gohan said. They were circling each other like a pair of wolves.

"Oh, we are, in a matter of speaking. It's just a minor disagreement, really. They want to remain free creatures and defy our maker, while I want to absorb them into myself and become the perfect being Dr. Gero imagined," Cell said.

"I can't let you do that," Gohan said.

"You just did. The only being who was strong enough to keep me from my goal, you just helped me to destroy," Cell fixed the scanner to his head. "Bye, bye." He flew away from Gohan.

"Kamehameha!" Gohan shot at him, but Cell dodged. He flew back and backhanded Gohan into the ground, where he lost consciousness.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

"What do you think you are doing, son of Kakarot?" a somehow familiar voice said. "How dare you lay down on the job when your enemy is well on his way to becoming even more powerful than he already is."

It was Vageta. "What are you doing here?"

"Penance. The Kais said that if I help you, they'll let me out of HFIL," Vageta said.

"This is a dream," Gohan said.

"Believe what you will, but let me tell you this; if you don't stop Cell, no one will," Vageta said.

"How can I beat him? He is so much stronger than I am," Gohan said.

"You will find the strength somehow, because if you don't the universe will end. Cell was designed to kill, and kill is what he will do. Kill, and destroy, until there is nothing, and only he remains. In you, the galaxy has a sole hope. You are the sole survivor of the saiyan race, redeem the crimes done by our people," Vageta said. Everything went dark except for Vagita and Gohan. Then there were stars. There was a map of the galaxy beneath Gohan's feet. A star died. Then another. Then another. "This is what will happen if Cell is allowed to reach his true power. People will die. Planets will die. _Stars_ will die. Quadrillions of souls, lost. Genocide on such a scale to make Armageddon seem trivial."

Gohan felt all of those sentients dying, "No. No, I can't let this happen!"

"You better do what you can quickly, because you are hanging onto life by a thread," Vagita said.

"No! I will not lose! I will not let those people die because I wasn't good enough! I will persevere, somehow, for their sakes!" He felt power surge through him, his hair turned blond and his eyes turned blue.

"Yes, feel the power of the Saiyans in your blood! Know that you are a Super Saiyan, and the most powerful being in the entire universe! Know also…that I am sorry. If not for me, you may have lived a normal life. If I see your father when I leave HFIL, I'll give him your regards. Good bye, Gohan, last of my people. Redeemer of my people."

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

Gohan rose from into the air, and tested his limbs. Neither of his legs nor his right arm were working, and he couldn't feel anything beneath his waist. Damn. Even injured and broken and half-dead, Gohan felt more powerful than he ever had before. Sensing Cell, who was also more powerful than ever, he flew after him, finding him in record speed.

Cell didn't look the same as he had, but he ws still Cell. "My, Gohan, back from the dead? Just barely, I see. Even being a Super Saiyan won't be enough to save you from me, weak as you are with injury. I have already absorbed Seventeen, and am about to absorb Eighteen." The hypodermic needle opened into a funnel, and went over Eighteen's head.

Gohan blasted it. "I'm not going to let you win, Cell."

"If that is the way you wish it, very well. I will destroy you now," Cell said. "Kamehameha!" Gohan batted it aside. "Destructro Disk!" Gohan caught it in his hand and smashed it.

"Tavilhee Webwork," Gohan whispered. Cell was bound by a thousand tiny threads.

"You…you aren't going to incapacitate me and then kill me. That…it wouldn't be fair fighting," Cell said.

"Fair? Do you think this is a game? Do you think I am playing? I'm fighting for keeps, Cell. There is no such thing as fair," Gohan said. He punched Cell in the stomach, chest, and lower gut at least half a dozen times.

"Wha…what did you do to me? I feel like I'm going to be sick." And with that he puked up Android 17, and he began to morph back into his original form.

"All that work seems to have been for nothing, Cell. Too bad for you," Gohan said. "Although, you did help me overpower the androids, so, thanks."

"Fine. I may be beaten, but I'm going to take you with me!" Cell said.

"Oh, and how are you going to manage that?" Gohan asked.

Cell began to plump. "I was designed with the ability to explode. The slightest jarring will set me off, and I'll take the planet with me!" Gohan grinned evilly. "What are you smiling about! I'm serious!"

Gohan sat on Cell, and pressed two fingers against his forehead. Suddenly, they were on another planet. "Say hello to the Instant Transmission technique. Good bye. I'll be back to mop up what is left of you."

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

Seventeen and Eighteen were found guilty of three hundred counts of planet-wide terrorism, two million one hundred thirty-three thousand five hundred and seventy one counts of first degree murder, and so much property damage and so many counts of manslaughter that Gohan lost track. They would have been killed right then and there, but Sixteen had made a plea bargain for their lives, so instead they were sentenced to a lifetime of hard labor, and all three of them were fitted with restraining bolts that would allow Gohan to blow them up if they gave him any reason to do so. Sixteen had been facing the (relatively) minor charge of aiding and abiding known terrorists, but as part of his plea bargain he had agreed to become his siblings' keeper, and would be punished right along with them if they misbehaved.

Things were calming down in the galaxy, but not for Bulma and Gohan. The androids had told them that the Earth had been ravaged by the robot armies of one Dr. Gero, and that that was what had made them leave in the first place, which was ironic considering how Gohan and Bulma had refused to return home for fear of causing the Earth being overrun by alien armies.

Gohan, Bulma, and their new baby entered the royal yacht, the fastest ship in the known galaxy.

"And just where do you think you're going?" Dende asked, Heater and himself making a dramatic entrance.

"There's a spot of trouble on the homeworld," Gohan said. "Don't worry, we'll call you."

"No, you won't, because we're coming with you," Heater said. One of his arms and most of his abdomen was mechanical now.

"It could be dangerous," Buma said.

"More dangerous than the androids and Cell?" Heater asked.

"I have been your friend through hell and high water, Gohan, ever since we were on the old Planet Namek. I know you aren't thinking about leaving me behind," Dende said.

Tears almost welled in Gohan's eyes. "Oh, you guys…come, then."

And so the four travelers (five if you count the baby) left, and the ship sailed for distant shores. This world, Earth: it was the place of Gohan's birth, yet he knew so little about it. He thought it should feel like he was coming home, but it didn't. It felt like he was entering strange waters.

**This is the end of Part Two. Stay tuned for Part Three.**

Author's Note: The scene where Cell and Gohan were sparring and the two Kamehameha waves met and stalled was a direct reference to the final battle with Cell. Seventeen being spat up by Cell was a direct reference to when Eighteen was spat up (both events then led to Cell blowing himself up. Yes, Gohan knows the Instant Transmission technique. He had been learning fighting styles from across the galaxy, and where did Goku learn it in the canon? In space. Heater becoming part-mechanical was a not-so-direct reference to Frieza becoming half-mechanical. Really, it was more like a foreboding. Really, though, except for the whole thing with Seventeen/Eighteen being spat up and Cell exploding and Gohan/Goku using the Instant Transmission, it was all coincidence. I'd get to a part in the story and realize that hey, I could do this without compromising the plot integrity. There were other references to the canon, I'm sure, but I forgot what they were.

I'm sorry for making you all wait this long, but I lost inspiration, and felt that it was better to wait for it to come back instead of sadling you with an inferior product. One more thing. I had this thing where I was going to let people vote for the sex of the baby, butI decided to rescind that. For one thing, I can't work on Part 3 until I know what sex the baby is, so this whole thing restricts my freedom of motion within the story. Besides which, I think that it might be a violation of the guidelines to have something like that here. So, sorry to go back on my word, but I'm going back on my word. (I actually meant to do this a while ago.) I will read the reviews to see what people thought, though, and who knows? Maybe you people had a good idea I can use. I hope that that is some consolation. (I haven't actually read the R&R's yet, felt it was better to make this apology unbiased.)


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